


Chain of Command

by lunabee34 (Lorraine)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 06:19:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorraine/pseuds/lunabee34
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard discovers that Jim likes it when someone else takes charge.  (I have no idea how to tag this; if anyone has tag suggestions, I'd be grateful)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chain of Command

“Take your goddamn pants off, or I’m cutting them off with a scalpel.”

Jim grins and claps Leonard on the back. “It’s just a scratch, Bones. No big deal. Nothing to get worked up about.” He slides off the end of the examination table. “I need to get back up to the bridge.”

No doubt he’s itching to leave orbit after that spectacular breakdown in diplomatic relations; Leonard wonders if Jim was making eyes at the Chancellor’s daughter or his wife this time. The infirmary would be a blessedly empty place if Jim could keep his hands to himself on away missions. Sometimes Leonard thinks his life is a cosmic joke, a pratfall on the blacktop of the Milky Way. If he had known that cleaning up the mess of James T. Kirk’s romantic assignations would be an integral part of his job description as chief medical officer of a starship, he thinks he’d have bailed out of Star Fleet that first year. But this is his life now, and for the most part Leonard has no complaints. However, if Jim thinks he’s going to weasel out of a post-mission checkup, he’s got another thing coming. 

“Take off your pants. Now.” Leonard crowds Jim back against the table until that stupid smirk on his face falters. Leonard leans in and plants his hands on the table on either side of Jim.

Jim blushes.

Leonard is so startled his jaw nearly drops; only years of bedside vigils and delivering bad news to patients’ families keep his expression neutral.

Jim shucks his pants and scoots back up on the examination table, his regulation briefs pulled taut across what Leonard has to admit is a pretty impressive erection. He doesn’t look at Leonard, his hands white knuckled on his pointy kneecaps.

“Get a grip,” Leonard tells himself and then bites the inside of his cheek to keep from giggling. It’s not like this is the first time he’s examined a patient with a boner. Hell, he once immunized two Deltans who could barely stop groping each other long enough for him to stab them with a hypo. All part and parcel of being a physician. Nothing unusual here. And yet, Leonard can’t stop staring at Jim’s cock—long and thick and straining against the thin white cotton of his underwear, one tiny patch of darkened fabric near the waistband. Is the man a masochist? Does he get off on firefights? Is he mentally replaying a bit of nookie with the Chancellor’s daughter? Or is Jim reacting to something else entirely?

“Today just got a hell of a lot more interesting,” Leonard thinks and gets back to the business of doctoring.

Sure enough, Jim’s leg is only scraped, but Leonard’s got appearances to keep up. “It only takes one flesh-eating alien microbe,” he says, slapping a bandage on Jim’s thigh. 

“Yeah,” Jim says to the floor and hightails it out of the infirmary.

Leonard replays the scene for the rest of his shift—that deep flush that pinked Jim’s cheeks and crept down his neck and under his collar, the way his breath came faster when Leonard raised his voice, the slight dilation of his pupils when Leonard leaned into him. Suddenly Leonard gets it. This isn’t what he expected, not by a long shot, but he can get with the program. Leonard is nothing if not adaptable. Jim, naturally, takes this opportunity to play hard to get for the first time in his life.

“Open the door,” Leonard says. “Or I'll declare a medical emergency and open the damn thing myself.”

The door swishes open. Jim is wearing jeans and he’s slouched against the wall with his hands shoved in his pockets down to the wrists. “Bones,” he says. “Leonard,” he says.

“Shut up,” Leonard says.

Jim blushes again, but he shuts his mouth.

Leonard is so pleased with the results that he repeats himself. “Shut up and come here.” 

Jim shuffles awkwardly across the floor, his usual grace absent. He looks almost afraid and so damn young. Leonard resists the urge to pat him on the shoulder reassuringly. When Jim is close enough that Leonard can feel the heat of his body, Leonard says, “Close your eyes.”

Jim closes his eyes, those dark lashes laid over the arc of his cheekbones. Leonard cups Jim’s strong jaw in his hands and takes that full bottom lip in between his teeth and bites down until Jim opens his mouth and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him. When they finally come up for air, Jim’s eyes are dark and sly and his lips are kiss-swollen, shiny and ripe.

“Take off your pants,” Leonard says and his voice comes up gravel.

This time, Jim pops the button on his jeans and drags the zipper down impossibly slowly. Leonard raises his eyebrow. Jim grins his patented cocky grin and he is so goddamn beautiful that Leonard can barely breathe.

Leonard says, “Are you under the impression that I have all day? Get those goddamn pants off and lay back on that bed.”

Jim shimmies out of his jeans and sprawls back on his bunk and finally Leonard can get his hands on what he’s been thinking about for hours. Jim’s dick looks good sliding through Leonard’s fist and it feels even better in his mouth. Jim throws his head back and pants, his legs splayed wide, and Leonard works him for what seems like forever—his tongue swirling over the head on the upstroke, one finger pressing ever so slightly into Jim’s ass until he comes in a hot mess down Leonard’s throat.

Jim is wrecked, utterly debauched, sweat pooling in his collarbone.

Leonard says, “On your knees,” in a voice he barely recognizes as his own. Jim slides to the floor instantly, his eyes like bruises in his pale face, and waits for Leonard to tell him what to do. “Suck my cock,” Leonard says and Jim does.

Jim’s mouth is sweet, wet heat—the perfect suction, that clever tongue wrapping around the shaft, his cheeks hollowed around Leonard’s cock. When Leonard comes, Jim looks him in the eye until Leonard’s ridden the whole thing down, until he’s boneless and worthless and twitching with the aftershocks.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Leonard drawls. “You gonna tuck me in, or what?”

Jim laughs and says, “Sir, yes Sir,” and Leonard falls asleep in the goddamn wet spot with Jim’s arm thrown over his hip.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Taking Orders (the mirrorverse remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124073) by [isabeau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isabeau/pseuds/isabeau)




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